


Blue Velvet

by mozzarellastyx



Category: One Direction (Band), Project Runway (US) RPF
Genre: Fashion & Couture, M/M, Model!Zayn, Project Runway AU, designer!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozzarellastyx/pseuds/mozzarellastyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry thinks this week’s challenge on Project Runway is quite difficult. He's out of his comfort zone. Then he meets his model, Zayn, and things just get harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Velvet

**Author's Note:**

> so this is just a little thing i wrote. project runway season 14 is underway and i was feeling inspired! i got a little carried away with the nuances of the show so there really isnt that much zarry interaction :/ but enjoy!

Harry rests his head not so gently on his work table, unsettling a few pencils and discarded sketches. When Heidi had told them they were going to have to ‘man up’ for this challenge, this is not what Harry was expecting.

“Y’alright, Harry?” Adam wonders from his station next to him, pencil tucked behind his ear. His American accent is endearing as always but unfortunately does little for Harry in his distressed state.

“Yeah,” Harry sighs, staring at the blank sketchbook in front of him. “Just a little…lost.”

“I think we all are,” Adam assures, but he's already coloring in his sketch so Harry can't exactly believe him.

He sighs again, looking back at his own, empty paper. For the first time in the competition, he’s blank for ideas. He’s tried sketching different, fleeting thoughts that run through his brain, but none of them are good. None of them are…Harry.

The problem is, Harry's never designed clothes for men. He does the occasional piece for himself or a friend, but he pretty much only creates women’s fashion. He has no idea what kind of clothing men wear on the runway, he doesn't know what the judges want to see. Hell, he doesn't even know how to sketch a male figure.

Really, he's just stupid. He's watched the show before; he should've known there would be a male fashion challenge. He should've prepared beforehand, made some clothes for Niall. Yeah, he's got that lanky model look.

“Alright designers,” Tim announces, clapping his hands and looking around. “You’ll have $500 and thirty minutes to shop at Mood for fabric. You'll have until midnight tonight to complete your design. Let's get to it!”

Harry groans softly, sliding off his stool and shoving some sketches into his bag before following the rest of the contestants out the door. It’s a scramble once they arrive, everyone running to find the fabric they envisioned. Harry’s not so eager, instead just pacing indecisively back and forth in front of different textiles. He has no clue what he’s going to make yet, much less what he wants to make it out of.

It seems like only seconds have passed when Tim calls out the fifteen minute mark. Harry’s stomach churns. He really has to just pick some fabric and see what he can do with it back at the studio. He’s wasted enough time pacing; now he just has to grab and go.

He finds a few yards of a midnight blue velvet, thinking maybe he can create some type of jacket or blazer with it. It’s not too bulky, and it might form a nice shape. He grabs a few yards of tweed as well, just in case. He’s then, of course, drawn to the floral patterns that everyone had been avoiding this challenge. He can’t help it, though. He loves a flower pattern. It’s a rich burgundy speckled with tiny pink and crème flowers, and Harry takes a couple of yards out of instinct.

He’s the last one through the checkout, spending nearly all of his money on the fabric as well as a few gold accent buttons he found along the way. He’s feeling a little bit better about the challenge as they drive back to Parsons, at least enjoying his fabric choices.

The problem, as he finds when they get back, is figuring out what to do with it. The fabric gives him a little inspiration, but all he finds himself drawing is a boring suit. It’s not really enough, he thinks as he studies his sketch. The judges won’t be wowed, but maybe, if he executes it well enough, it can keep him safe for another week. Not a winning look, but a safe look.

It’s really Harry’s only option at this point, considering he’s only got until midnight and he’s never constructed a men’s suit before. He lets out a long exhale before setting to work, spreading out his material and using his new model’s measurements to start cutting.

When Tim comes in to consult, Harry’s only got a couple of things pinned on his mannequin. He’s not used to the broader shoulders and narrow hips, so it’s taking him a while to adjust. No one else seems to be struggling as much, which kind of just adds to Harry’s foul mood.

“Harry,” Tim greets as he makes his way to Harry’s station, cameras following behind. Harry doesn’t really notice the cameras anymore. He’s kind of gotten use to their omnipresence.

“Hi Tim,” Harry says, trying to keep his voice from sounding too dreary.

“Explain this to me,” Tim tells him, waving at his mannequin. He’s got a finger pressed to his pursed lips, eyebrows drawn in concern. That doesn’t really boost Harry’s confidence.

“Well,” he starts, looking at his own, drooping design. “I’ve never really made men’s clothing before, so I thought I’d try to keep it basic with a suit. And then I was going to make a shirt with this floral for underneath.”

Tim is quiet for a few moments as he studies the look. Harry gnaws at the inside of his cheek, watching Tim think.

“I fear it might be too basic,” Tim finally says. “Right now it’s looking a little Men’s Wearhouse. You want to think Saint Laurent.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, wringing out his hands as he looks at the pinned coat. “I was also maybe thinking doing like an inside out look. Like, with the floral as the coat and then the velvet inside.”

Tim taps his finger to his lips as he ponders the idea. “Yes, I can see that. I will advise you, though, to be careful with the fabrics. Velvet is kind of heavy to have underneath that floral. It might look a little bulky. We want this clean.”

“Okay,” Harry nods. “Clean, yeah.”

“Thank you Harry,” Tim says before moving on to Adam.

“Thanks, Tim,” Harry mumbles, frowning at his mannequin.

He gets to work unpinning the coat, laying out what he’s cut already so he can see it. The trousers are done and pinned already, waiting at the end of the table to be sewn at after the fitting. Right now, Harry’s biggest task is getting something together that resembles a coat before his model shows up.

An hour later, he realizes he doesn’t have enough floral fabric left to create a full coat, since he already made the shirt he was planning on using earlier. There’s enough for sleeves, but he can’t make the full body of the jacket with the little material he has left. He lets out a frustrated sound, throwing his fabric back on the table and running his hands through his curls.

“Okay designers,” Tim calls. “I’m sending in your models. You’ll have twenty minutes for fitting. Chop chop!”

Harry plops down on his stool, defeated. He’s only got trousers and half a jacket to put on the poor bloke that got assigned to him. He misses his regular model, Katarina. At least she knew how to cheer Harry up when he only had half an outfit for her.

The new chaps enter through the doors a few minutes later. They’re quite a good looking bunch, Harry has to admit, and that makes him feel a bit better. He glances down at his measurements sheet, reading that his model’s name is Zayn. He’s wondering what country or culture that name is from when he’s greeted by someone who’s the spitting image of ‘tall, dark and handsome’.

“Hi,” the lad says as he steps closer to Harry’s table. “I’m Zayn.”

“Harry,” he says dumbly, shaking the bloke’s hand. He can’t tear his eyes away from Zayn’s sultry features: caramel eyes, full lips, dark brows. All thoughts of his design flutter away as he continues to shake Zayn’s hand for an extended amount of time.

“This looks sick,” Zayn acknowledges, nodding towards the sad mannequin. Harry blinks as he realizes Zayn’s words are coated in an accent not altogether foreign to Harry.

“Thanks,” Harry manages. “You from England, too?”

“Mhm,” Zayn nods, looking down at Harry’s failed sketches. “Bradford. What ‘bout you?”

“Cheshire,” Harry informs, twirling a pencil in his fingers nervously.

“Wicked,” Zayn nods. “What would y’like me to try on?”

Harry clears his throat, finally snapping out of the trance Zayn’s beauty had thrown him in. “Oh, right. Well, let's see. I've got some trousers, but I'm a bit stuck on what I want to do for the jacket.

“Alright,” Zayn says, tugging off his white t-shirt.

Harry turns away, fearing his cheeks are growing pinker and pinker by the minute. He grabs the trousers from the end of the table, only then realizing as they're in his hands that Zayn will soon be stepping out of his own trousers to put them on. He swallows.

“These are only pinned,” he mentions, turning back to Zayn.

He’s met by creamy, olive skin littered with tattoos. Ink covers Zayn's arms and chest, trickling down to his waist. Harry’s mouth goes dry, overwhelmed by the artwork caressing Zayn's body.

"They’ll cover these for the show," Zayn mentions, as if misreading Harry's expression as concern. “With make up.”

“Oh,” Harry nods, trying to keep himself from actually drooling. He's always been a sucker for tattoos, has plenty of his own, and Zayn's are magnificent. He itches to know the story behind each one. “Yeah, no worries.”

Zayn takes the trousers from him, and Harry busies himself with getting the jacket off of the mannequin as Zayn puts them on. He fears his eyes might pop out of his head and roll away if he sees Zayn in his briefs.

It's inappropriate. He can't find his model attractive. Their relationship is meant to be strictly business. Zayn's only there to bring his clothes down the runway, a walking mannequin. They should be cordial, of course, but nothing deeper.

Harry gives Zayn a few more seconds before he turns around with the jacket. The trousers fit…well the trousers fit extremely well, and while Harry should be ecstatic that the trousers actually fit, that he actually constructed men’s trousers, he can't enjoy it. It just makes him more flustered, seeing Zayn's lean thighs and perk bum painted in dark velvet.

“I think they might be a little long,” Zayn speaks up, tugging up the pant leg slightly.

“Yeah,” Harry nods, crouching down to fix a pin on the side of Zayn’s leg. The new angle really isn't helping Harry's ruffled mind. “I haven't hemmed them yet. I just have to pin them right quick.”

“Oh,” Zayn says. “Right.”

Harry squats lower to reach the end of the trousers, holding the extra pins in his mouth as he spears the fabric into place. His back aches when he stands back up, something about how his legs aren't even, so he’s got a slight grimace as he tosses the extra pins back in the container.

“Something the matter?” Zayn wonders, thick eyelashes batting in concern.

“No, nothing,” Harry assures, moving through the pain to grab the jacket off of his workplace. “’Ve just got, like, chronic back pain.”

“Ah,” Zayn nods, pink lips pulled into a slight frown. “’M sorry to hear that.”

“Don't be,” Harry waves off, holding up the jacket. “My legs are just uneven.”

Zayn looks genuinely curious. “Really?”

Harry can't help but smile at his child-like interest as he finishes up pinning together the jacket. “Yeah, just a bit of a centimeter different, but it messes up a lot.”

“Oh,” Zayn says. “Do you have to wear, like, inserts in your shoes, then?”

“I'm supposed to,” Harry shrugs. “But they don't fit very well in my boots, so I just deal with the pain.”

“Beauty hurts,” Zayn agrees. “’Ve gotten stuck with so many pins I'm pretty much immune now.”

Harry smiles, sticking in the last pin. “Good to know. I've got clumsy fingers.”

Zayn snorts out a laugh and Harry smiles proudly. He holds up the garment against Zayn's bare chest, cocking his head as he studies it.

“Alright, so here's the thing,” Harry starts. “I've made this jacket, right, but I don't have enough fabric to finish the bottom. But I just want to see it on before I completely start over.”

He helps Zayn into the fragile piece, careful not to touch him as much as possible while still getting him into the tight jacket. Harry steps back to see how it fits him. The bottom hits just below his waist, but other than that it actually fits well. It's not too tight or loose on the arms. It's a little rippled on the shoulders but Harry can fix that with the sewing machine. The ensemble actually looks pretty good from the waist up and the hips down.

“Yeah, see,” Harry frowns. “It's just much too short.”

“’s like a crop top,” Zayn adds, looking down at his stomach peeking out. “A cool look, though, if that's what you're going for.”

“It wasn't,” Harry chuckles humorlessly, studying the look. “But, I don't know.”

The crop top look could work, honestly. It's definitely not boring like he feared earlier. It will stand out, just like the black heart inked onto Zayn's hip, the one that's showing just above the waist of the trousers. None of the other designers are doing something like it. It might be kind of risky, but…

Think Saint Laurent.

It is kind of Saint Laurent, how it pushes the envelope of conventional and fashionable. As long as Harry can clean up the edges and make it look like it didn't just shrink in the wash, he thinks he might actually be able to pull this off.

“So you like the crop top look?” Harry asks him, slightly distracted by the way Zayn’s ab muscles flex as he moves. Maybe crop tops are too dangerous.

“Yeah,” Zayn nods eagerly. “It's sick. ‘ve never seen anything like it before.”

"Yeah, okay,” Harry says slowly, growing on the idea. “I think I like it too.”

“Wicked,” Zayn grins.

“Five minutes!” Tim calls from somewhere in the work room.

Harry gets to work pinning the cuffs of the jacket as Zayn waits patiently, standing still and letting Harry do his work. He's so complacent, perfectly happy to let Harry work on him. Harry wonders if he's like that in other regards, if he'd willingly allow Harry to have his way with him…

Zayn flinches slightly as Harry accidentally stabs his wrist with a pin, distracted by his perverted thoughts.

“Sorry,” Harry squeaks, wincing.

“S’fine,” Zayn assures, stilling again. “Used to it, remember?”

“Right,” Harry breathes out a chuckle. God, Zayn's such a doll. Much sweeter than his tattoos and dark features let on.

He finishes not long after, slowly pulling the jacket off over Zayn's head and turning to place it back on the mannequin.

“You can change back into your trousers,” Harry tries to say as lightly as possible.

“Alright,” Zayn says behind him.

Harry works methodically, putting the jacket on the mannequin without pulling at any pins. He takes his time before turning back around to see Zayn laying the trousers out neatly on the table, shirt slung around his neck.

“Alright models,” Tim announces. “Time to head out! Please say goodbye to your designers and follow me.”

Zayn smiles crookedly as he sticks his arms through the corresponding holes in his shirt. “It was nice meeting you, Harry.”

“You too,” Harry swallows.

“See you tomorrow, then,” Zayn nods, inching towards the door but keeping his caramel eyes locked on Harry.

“See you tomorrow,” Harry repeats, mesmerized.

He watches Zayn leave, last model out of the door. He kind of stands there for a bit, blinking and absently brushing the velvet between his fingers.

"Your model's a cutie," Catie comments, walking past Harry's workspace on her way to the sewing room. “He's got that mysterious look.”

Harry lets out a breath of a laugh. “He's nice.”

“Mm,” she hums, smiling slyly. “Very nice.”

Harry nudges her lightly. She cackles as she leaves, bright green fabric fluttering behind her.

He's feeling much more confident about where he's going with his design, actually hitting the sewing room to sew up the trousers. He's still got to finish the velvet shirt for underneath the jacket, trying to find a way to not make it bulky under the floral.

But he's a bit distracted. He can't stop thinking about Zayn, his crooked smile, inked skin, taut muscles. Every time he sews something together he imagines how it looked on Zayn, dark blue contrasting against his tanned skin. He loses count of how many times he pricks his own fingers with pins, distracted by his own mind.

By the time midnight rolls around, he somehow has a look on the mannequin. He's got a few things to touch up in the morning, but he's actually feeling quite relieved and not as stressed as he expected to feel as they head back to their hotel.

He gets a good night’s sleep, and when they enter the work room the next day he's feeling refreshed and ready to get to the runway. It's quiet in the room as everyone scurries about with last minute things. Harry's perfectly fine working in silence, humming a little under his breath as he hand stitches on the gold buttons.

Tim sends in the models not long after they arrive, telling them they have thirty minutes before the runway. Zayn's looking fresh and well-rested as he finds Harry's workspace, smiling brightly.

“Alright, Harry?” He greets. “Looks really good, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he breathes with a little smile of his own, tying off his needle.

“Got my tattoos covered up already,” Zayn mentions, leaning on the table and watching Harry work.

“Oh, good,” Harry nods. “You can put the pants on, then. I've put a clasp in the front so they should be easier to put on.”

“Aces,” Zayn says, tugging at the waistband of his joggers.

Harry swallows and tries to focus on his task at hand, but it's quite hard when Zayn is stripping right next to him. He inhales deeply, urging his mind to focus solely on the gold button in his fingers.

“Okay,” Harry starts once he's finished sewing, holding up the velvet shirt. “This goes on first. It's, like, more of a vest so that's it's not bulky underneath.”

“Alright,” Zayn nods, slipping off his t-shirt. His beautiful tattoos are, sadly, covered with make up. He looks much different, not as much himself, Harry can tell.

He helps Zayn into the vest, buttoning it up with nervous fingers. They're so close he can feel Zayn's breath on his skin, warm and gentle.

He takes a step back, studying the look together. It's nice, all blue velvet and clean lines. The vest hits right below Zayn's to cage,, meant to be just a few centimeters shorter than the jacket. It even looks good without the floral coat, and Harry has to admit he's pretty impressed with himself. Plus, Zayn makes it look a hundred times better than it did on the mannequin.

Once Zayn slips on the jacket, the look is complete. Harry’s pleased with how the whole thing turned out, feeling world's better about the challenge than he had yesterday. He hurries over to the accessory wall to grab some shoes and a watch for Zayn to slip on quickly.

"Can you walk for me?" Harry asks as Zayn clasps the watch on his wrist.

“Yeah, definitely,” Zayn says, moving out from behind the work table so he can have a clear path.

Harry watches him stalk across the floor. Zayn's face is drawn into a blank sort of pout, a mysterious runway face. It's beautiful, and Harry only realizes he was supposed to be watching the clothes once Zayn turns to walk back.

“I'm contemplating having you take the jacket off at the end,” Harry frowns, tapping a finger to his lips. “Hey, Adam?”

“Yeah?” He calls from where he’s pinning his own model.

“Should I have him take the jacket off?”

Zayn slips out of it quickly, slinging it over his shoulder to show Adam how it looks. Adam thinks for a minute, pin held between his lips.

“Yeah,” he nods. “At the end of the runway.”

“It's settled then,” Harry claps.

“What should I do when I walk down?” Zayn inquires, sliding back into the jacket.

"Well, I've made little pockets in the pants,” Harry says, “so maybe just have your hands there, and then once you take off the jacket keep one hand in a pocket and the other holds the jacket over your shoulder, like you had before.”

“Sounds swell,” Zayn nods, watching himself in the mirrors that line the wall.

“Okay, designers!” Tim claps. “Let's get down to the runway!”

Harry follows Zayn out of the work room, running a hand through his curly locks anxiously. He likes his look, sure, but runway shows never fail to make him nervous. Putting his work on display to be critiqued by three judges, some of which don't mind being harsh, is quite nerve-racking.

“Make me proud,” Harry mumbles to Zayn as they leave the models backstage, patting him on the back.

“That's the plan,” Zayn winks.

Harry nearly melts right there, but luckily Catie is behind him, pushing him along so he doesn't turn into a puddle. Zayn smiles at him as Harry leaves, and if Harry's heart wasn’t already pumping hard, it sure is now.

The show begins shortly after they take their seats. Heidi introduces the judges like always before reminding them that one of them would be named the winner, and one of them would be out.

Harry can barely focus on the other looks as they walk down the runway. He's so anxious to see Zayn walk out from behind the white shadow sheet. What he does see of the other designs just adds to his nerves. He's starting to think his look is just too weird and impractical. Who even wants a cropped suit jacket? Who would wear that?

Then, he sees Zayn. He's totally killing it, strutting down the runway and making Harry's outfit look a thousand times better than it should. Harry can't even watch the judges’ reactions like he usually does because Zayn is just so captivating. He takes off the jacket smoothly at the end, slinging it over his shoulder before turning and walking back. He looks so damn good, narrowed waist accented in the cropped look.

"I want that," Fredrick leans over to whisper. “It's amazing.”

Harry lets out a little breath of thanks, watching Zayn disappear behind the white curtain once more. He glances over at the judges, finally, but he can't see their expressions as they're jotting down comments on their cards.

His knees are nearly buckling as the eight of them stand in a line, waiting for Heidi to call their names. Harry’s in the first group, the group called to take a step forward. When she says that the back row is safe, his nerves get worse. That means he's in the top…or the bottom. Fuck.

Their models are sent out to stand with them. Zayn gives the inkling of a smile as he takes his spot next to Harry, and it brings him a bit of comfort. He holds in the urge to reach for Zayn's hand, needing some security but not that desperate.

“You six represent the highest and the lowest scores,” Heidi announces, as if they don't already know. “Harry, let's start with you. Tell us about your look.”

Harry hates having to describe what he's created. He's always stumbling over his words and rambling and it never comes out the way it runs through his head. He takes a deep breath in a sorry attempt to calm his nerves.

“Well, I've never actually created a men’s look,” Harry begins. “So I was a little lost at the beginning. But I found this velvet and I thought it might look good as a suit. And I really liked this floral pattern. The velvet was looking kind of boring so I tried inverting the fabrics, but I didn't have enough floral to create a full jacket so I decided to just make it cropped.”

“I love this look,” Heidi smiles, and Harry lets out a heavy sigh of relief. Thank fuck. “It's very new, very modern with the crop top. That's very in right now, but we really only see it in women’s fashion. I'm glad you brought it here for a men’s look.”

“Yes, I like the concept too,” Nina nods, studying it. “The velvet and floral make it almost feminine, in a way. It's very creative.”

“I agree,” Zac nods. “It's feminine while still being confidently masculine.”

“Can we see it without the jacket?” Heidi asks.

Harry helps Zayn out of the coat, holding it for him as he stands for the judges in the velvet ensemble.

“Beautiful,” Nina says. “It's like a whole other look.”

“Yeah, and the craftsmanship is impeccable,” Heidi adds.

“Thank you,” Harry manages to squeeze in, heart pounding.

“It's really a three piece look,” Zac comments. “Instead of just adding a dickie or something under the jacket, you made it it's own thing. And it even looks good without the jacket. A really good length for a crop top.”

“Great work,” Heidi nods with a grin before turning to the next contestant.

Harry doesn't really pay attention for the rest of the critiques. He lets out a breath of relief, and Zayn smiles next to him.

When they leave the runway, Zayn squeezes his shoulder.

“I told you it was a good look,” he grins. “Congrats, mate.”

“Thanks,” Harry beams, excitement bubbling over. “Couldn't have done it without you, though. You owned it.”

Zayn smiles, lips tugging into a type of smirk, really. “Just my job, aye?”

**Author's Note:**

> find [me](http://craziamlove.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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